


wings bandaged with care

by moonrisn



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Guardian Angels, Minor Injuries, Other, Platonic Relationships, lapslock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:21:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26414080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonrisn/pseuds/moonrisn
Summary: among the multiple bandages and ruffled feathers, you had a question for chan. he may or may have an answer among his many years of ‘angelic wisdom’, but that’s okay if he didn’t.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Reader
Kudos: 7





	wings bandaged with care

as you gently applied a cotton ball soaked with rubbing alcohol against another (thankfully small) wound you had found on the ‘arm’ of chan's left wing while he fussed with the feathers on his right, the question you'd been mulling over for a few days now came back to you as strong and as unpleasant as the smell of the rubbing alcohol.

the same question that came to you the first time chan appeared before you with a few minor scratches and ruffled feathers from a fight. while he wasn’t too bothered by them, as if the little scratches of red on the ‘arms’ of his otherwise black wings and the ones on his fingers were day to day occurrences, you immediately were in ‘nervous mode’, quickly moving to get the first aid kit from your cabinets; " these were from a very dangerous’ demon, mind you,” he had said as you fretted over his scratched-up hands. "i had it on the ropes, i swear."

said ‘very dangerous demon’ was a strange black blob-like thing that looked somewhat like an irritated cat, the same one you’d even see in passing sometimes on your way to school or work; you couldn’t stop the giggles from bubbling up and out when chan told you, his own amused laughter soon joining yours.

nonetheless, his quips upon arrival had made you chuckle a little, easing your sudden nervousness over his injuries as well as his own over your safety.

and it was the same one that constantly came back whenever chan appeared before you when you called for him, doing so with a gentle beat of his wings and a feather or two floating to the ground. as if the question served to warn you for any new scratches, irritatingly bruised knuckles or a simple case of ruffled feathers that he brought home with him.

the scratches and bruises you’d treat just fine of course, always with care and with a sense of peace given by chan’s presence and in knowing chan was okay despite his ‘life threatening’ injuries (he once joked in an attempt to calm you down when you nearly burst into tears at a big cut on his hand). 

the question, however, was something you weren’t sure you could treat and you’d rather not have sitting on your mind, worrying chan whenever he saw you distracted or deep in thought. no matter how much it sometimes helped.

\---

"...hey, chan?" you started, your voice a gentle hum throughout your living room and an always welcome sound on chan's ears. aside from the quiet chatter from the television and the occasional passing car every once in a while, there wasn't really any other noise loud enough that could distract him from your voice here, in the nightly comfort of your home, like there sometimes was during the hustle and bustle of the day. just how he liked it.

seeing him turn his attention away from his ruffled feathers, bandaged fingers stopping their fretting and grooming, and towards you, you hesitated to continue, as you weren't quite expecting him to suddenly give you his full attention. if you were honest, it was always a little surprising when he did that; having those rich brown eyes that were often filled with a gentle sort of affection (for you) suddenly pointed at you. it would make anyone stop right in their tracks and you were definitely no exception.

"is it...hmm, no,” mentally shaking your hesitation off, you let your heart settle from it’s momentary rush before continuing, "why do people think or assume it's pretty when angels fight?" as the question left your lips, and as you tossed the used cotton ball into a nearby trash bag, it seemed silly and more of a strange concept than anything now that you asked.

"why do you ask that, (name)?” his voice gentle as he spoke, he looked at you with a lopsided, yet somehow knowing smile. as if he knew what you were going to ask him before the question even left your lips. he didn’t, as telepathy wasn’t among his abilities, but he’d been your guardian angel long enough to have an idea as to how your worried brain worked. “is it because of all nicks and scratches i keep bringing back with me?”

"no, well...maybe," you replied as you gently placed a band-aid on the 'arm' of his wing, careful not to apply it too tightly. you knew chan would be a crybaby about it (something he'd very much deny) when it came time to take the thing off, so you tried to make it easier for him now. not that he really needed it, but he always appreciated it. “i...i was just curious is all.”

chan hummed for a few seconds, letting himself get lost in thought to find an answer, before your gentle touch on his wings and a quiet ‘all done’ brought him back. “i’m afraid i can’t answer that, love. but if it soothes you, i’ll try to get scratched up less so you don’t have to constantly tend to my 'battle wounds’,” he finished with an amused smile. he then laughed, a warm and soothing sound as the two of you settled into a gentle back and forth 'debate’ of sorts on his ‘dangerous demon’ fighting habits.

he didn't blame you for your question, though. he knew that humans were curious (and in your case, fretful) beings, often filled with the most simple yet confounding questions. besides, he had his own questions about things here and there that he wanted to ask you when time permitted.

questions like 'why do humans fret over beings like him when they themselves are so fragile?' and 'why do you try to protect me when i'm your guardian angel?' such questions that he supposed came about during his guardianship (more so friendship, really). even such a question as 'how do you make me feel so at home, as if i was back in heaven? and with nothing more than your presence'?

actually, maybe that last one he'd keep to himself a little longer.

\---

packing up the band-aids and cotton balls, you made your way back to the kitchen to simply put them back on the counter, knowing you’d need them again soon. “in the meantime, as your ‘valiant battle wounds’ from another ‘very dangerous’ demon heal, do you think you could stay for pizza and a bad horror movie?” you called from the kitchen.

at that, a bright smile as soft as his own feathers spread on chan's lips, as he was always happy to spend his time with you, injured or not. “i think i can do that just fine, love.”

and when you poked your head out the kitchen to hear chan’s reply better, you once again hesitated to reply. for the warmth, the softness, the prettiness of chan’s smile that greeted you in contrast to the numerous band-aids and bandages that decorated his face, knuckles, and wings made the question come back. this time with much less pressure on your thoughts and a little more pleasant.

it also seemed to come back along with the musing thought of how happy you were to have chan as your guardian angel and friend; unbeknownst to you, chan, with a pleasant feeling of warmth in his chest upon seeing your face reappear around the corner, was thinking the same thing.

and for answer to the question this time, you think, came in the form of his bright smile and gentle eyes. and that was an answer you'd keep to yourself for a little while longer.


End file.
